Chapter Fifteen
“Mac Edan. Dermot!”
Dermot awoke with a start. It was dark in the vault of Wrexham, a tiny space that contained two heavily barred cells, and as of a few hours ago, he’d found himself in one.
Carr was in the other. Now, his cell door was open and someone was calling his name.
He couldn’t see who it was because the torch on the wall was too far away to give much light.
It only made the figure a silhouette, but instead of one silhouette, there were three.
Three big figures crowding into his cell.
Dermot backed up against the wall.
“What do you want?” he demanded, holding a hand up to try to block the torchlight a little so he could see who was in the cell with him. “Who is it?”
“Who is this cousin you plan to marry Carr’s daughter to?”
Dermot didn’t recognize the voice. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“Answer my question.”
“Not until you answer mine!”
A fist flew at his face from the figure to his right, catching him in the jaw. He toppled into the iron bars, seeing stars.
“Wrong answer,” the voice said. “I will ask again. Who is this cousin you plan to marry Carr’s daughter to?”
Moving his jaw from side to side, Dermot didn’t want to take another blow like that, but his fury had the better of him. “Tell me who you are first,” he said. “I do not speak to bastards who converge on me like this. If you—”
Another fist came flying at him, hitting him in the head this time. Stars danced in front of his eyes again, but he began swinging back. Very quickly, the encounter deteriorated into a brawl, right in his tiny little cell.
And very quickly, he was losing.
In the cell next door, the commotion had awakened Carr, who was now on his feet.
He rushed to the bars separating his cell from Dermot’s and began yelling at whoever was attacking Dermot.
He didn’t recognize them in the darkness, and he was beginning to feel some panic until he looked to the small area outside of the cells, right at the base of the stairs, and saw de Wolfe standing there, watching the scene unfold.
He threw himself against his cell door.
“William!” he gasped. “Stop this at once! They will kill him!”
William didn’t seem concerned in the least. His gaze moved to Carr, and he took a few steps in the man’s direction.
“I will ask you the same question that has been asked of Dermot,” he said. “How did the marriage to Dermot’s cousin come about for your daughter?”
Carr’s brow furrowed as if he’d just been asked a completely outrageous question. “Why would you ask such a thing?” he said. “It is none of your affair. Stop those men from beating Dermot this instant! That is an order!”
William lifted a dark eyebrow. “Given you have been thrown in the vault, I think it is obvious that you no longer give orders,” he said.
“Moreover, why would I want to take orders from a man who has treated his own daughter so poorly that he seems to have allied with some very bad men in order to remove her to Ireland? Shame on you, Carr. A knight trusted by William Marshal does not give his allegiance to rebels.”
Carr’s eyes were wide with confusion and perhaps a little fear. “You spout madness, de Wolfe,” he said. “Who told you such lies?”
Dermot suddenly let out a howl that made the hair on the back of Carr’s neck stand on end.
Both William and Carr turned to see what was happening in Dermot’s darkened cell, but it was difficult.
All they could see was that Dermot was between two very large men, and one of them had Dermot’s hand twisted behind his back.
“Now,” one of the men growled. “Tell me about this cousin you plan to marry Carr’s daughter to.”
“I will not!” Dermot shouted. “You dirty bastard, release me!”
The man broke one of Dermot’s fingers on the hand twisted behind his back, and Dermot screamed in pain.
He shouted and cursed and howled as the man broke three fingers and finally his thumb.
Leaving the hand snapped and useless, they started in on the other hand, but Dermot started begging for mercy.
The defiance quickly turned to terror.
And Carr was watching it all in horror.
“Have you no pity, de Wolfe?” he said, no longer demanding but now sounding as if he was begging. “This is a man you have stood side by side with in battle. Does that not count for anything?”
William was emotionless as he looked at Carr. “Tell me what I want to know and I will call them off,” he said. “Refuse and they will break every bone in Dermot’s body, one by one. His fate is in your hand, Carr.”
Carr began to twitch. He didn’t doubt William for a moment, but he couldn’t understand why the man was doing this. Torturing a knight that was an ally and comrade simply wasn’t done, but de Wolfe didn’t seem to have any reservations about doing it.
And it occurred to him why.
Tristan had sent him.
“De Royans is behind this, isn’t he?” he hissed. “He sent you here to do this.”
William lifted a dark eyebrow. “Who is this cousin you intended to marry your daughter to?”
Carr almost refused him. Dermot was over in the other cell, gasping in pain, but they hadn’t broken any additional bones.
Yet. That left Carr with the decision on just how crippled Dermot was going to be.
Whoever these men were with de Wolfe meant business.
And that, in and of itself, was terrifying.
Carr proceeded carefully.
“He is a smithy,” Carr said steadily. “I do not know his name, but Dermot does. He receives missives from his mother, and she has made the arrangements.”
William’s attention turned to Dermot. “Who is this smithy?” he said. “And why is your mother involved?”
Dermot was in a great deal of pain. As a knight, he was supposed to withstand such things, but he’d never been very good at it.
Some men were stronger than others, and even though Dermot was English-trained, he’d never had the true gift for the knighthood.
Moments like this made him realize that.
He knew he couldn’t stand any more of what they were doing to him because, already, his sword hand was useless.
He didn’t want to lose use of his remaining good hand.
God only knew what else they would take from him, the English scum.
Hatred and terror filled his chest.
“Leave my mother out of this,” he said, breathing heavily. “I’ll not tell you anything about her, but—”
He was cut off when a snapping sound filled the air. Another bone had been broken, this time in his wrist, and Dermot began screaming.
“You cannot stop them!” he cried. “You cannot protect her! They’re coming for her, and you cannot stop them!”
William yanked the torch off the wall and brought it closer to the cell, illuminating Paris and Kieran as they stood on either side of Dermot. Kieran had Dermot’s smashed left hand in his grip, twisted behind the man’s back, while Paris had him around the neck.
But William wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Who is coming for her?” he asked. “The Irish rebels?”
Dermot was broken and bloodied. He simply wasn’t that strong of a man, not like some of them. There were men who could withstand this and men who couldn’t.
He was one who couldn’t.
Better confess and pray for mercy.
“Aingil Lochlainn,” he said, spittle dripping from his lips. “The Angels of Lochlainn. Do you know the name?”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Who are they?”
Dermot was having difficulty concentrating because his injured hand was still being held by the enormous knight who had broken it. “Tell the knight to release me and I’ll tell you everything,” he pleaded. “Please. Just let me go and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
William looked at Kieran and nodded his head, causing Kieran to immediately release Dermot’s smashed hand. Dermot fell to his knees, cradling the limb against his chest, trying very hard not to weep.
“Well?” William said. “Who are the Angels of Lochlainn?”
Dermot took a deep breath. “Not rebels,” he said.
“Men dedicated to Irish rule for Irish lands. I could tell you more, but it’s complicated.
There are many factions in Ireland right now, and many royal families of kings who no longer have kingdoms. Lochlainn was Leinster.
They are the mortal enemies of mac Ragnaill. ”
The light of understanding went on in William’s mind. “The same group who tried to take Lady Andromeda from Rockbrook.”
Dermot nodded. “Aye,” he said, sounding weary and defeated. “They know she’s at Wrexham, and they will take her. Mark my words.”
“How?” William demanded. “Where are they?”
Dermot looked up at him. “I swear upon my oath as a knight that I do not know that,” he said, his voice trembling. “I only know that they are in the town, somewhere, but they’ve not contacted me yet. They’re here. And they are watching the castle.”
That was exactly what Tristan had speculated, so William wasn’t particularly surprised to hear it. And, to be truthful, he wasn’t surprised that Dermot knew it. Somehow, the quiet knight who never said much was involved in something covert, and that simply didn’t come as a revelation.
It was the quiet ones that usually had something to hide.
“Then you’re one of them,” he said. “You’ve been spying for them.”
Dermot cradled his arm a little closer, fearful they might start up the torture again. “My mother is a Lochlainn.”
William cocked his head in thought. “You and your mother communicate on a regular basis,” he said. “I have seen it the entire year I’ve been here. Do you mean to say that she is part of the nest of rebels, too?”
Dermot sighed heavily. “That is how Aingil Lochlainn received their information,” he said.
“Through my mother. No one would suspect a mother and son sending notes to one another, would they? But the truth is that I was sent to watch Carr. The man is a mac Murda, married to Brigid Ni Ascall. It was my task to watch him, and when his daughter came to Wrexham, I sent word to them. I knew they wanted to marry her to Gavan mac Lochlainn.”
“Is that the cousin you have back in Ireland?” William asked. “The man you called the smithy?”
Dermot nodded slowly. “Aye,” he said. “The same. One way or the other, she would be married to him. If we could not get her at Rockbrook, then we could get her here, at Wrexham.”
“You bastard,” Carr suddenly spat. “You bloody bastard! You’ve been spying on me all this time?”
Dermot looked over at him, surprisingly unemotional. “You made it easy,” he said. “When your daughter arrived and you told anyone who would listen that you didn’t want her here, you made it very easy. She’s going back to marry young Gavan, whether or not you like it. You don’t want her, anyway.”
Carr started slapping the iron bars. “If this cage wasn’t between us, I’d snap your bloody neck!” he hissed. “I cannot believe you were spying on me!”
He seemed more angry that he’d been spied on than the fact his daughter was in peril. They could all see it. William simply shook his head in disgust and returned his attention to Dermot.
“The lady cannot marry Gavan,” he said. “She married de Royans earlier tonight, so if you think you are going to get your hands on her, think again. De Royans will slay anyone who tries to get near his wife.”
Dermot’s momentary surprise turned to an expression of understanding fairly quickly. “I thought it might happen,” he said. “We could all see how he treated her. But I was hoping to get her away from him before he could marry her.”
“You’re too late,” William said. “She is Lady de Royans now, and Tristan brings the strength of the army of Wrexham with him. If your Irish brethren want her, they’ll have to battle a thousand men and walls of stone to get to her.”
Dermot shook his head. “If they want her badly enough, they’ll find a way,” he said. “They do not give up easily.”
“Would you know them on sight?”
Dermot shrugged. “More than likely,” he said. “It has been years since I last gathered with the group, but most of the faces haven’t changed, I’m sure. Why?”
“Because you are coming into the town with me, and we are going to find them,” William said. “That is the price for sparing your life. Refuse and I will leave you alone with Kieran to finish what he started.”
Dermot turned to the massive man next to him, the one who had snapped his bones. He was young—that was clear. He had a young face, but his eyes were ageless and intense. The killer instinct was there.
Dermot didn’t want to be a victim of it.
“As you wish,” he said, returning his attention to William. “But if I go into town with you, they may recognize me first. They’ll see me with you. They may not be too trusting.”
“That is a chance we will have to take,” William said. “I want to know where they are and how many there are, and you are going to help me with that.”
“And then what?”
“Then we tell de Royans, and he can decide what is to be done.”
“With me?”
“With you all.”
Carr, who had been listening to everything up until that point with rage and loathing building in his veins, suddenly let out a growl.
“I’m not part of that lot,” he said. “They’ve killed my own kin. I do not throw in with them.”
William looked at him. “That may be true, but you tried to harm your daughter today, and that is why you are here,” he said. “Your daughter became Lady de Royans this afternoon, so you are here until her husband decides what to do with you. That is his privilege.”
Carr kicked the iron bars in frustration, muttering to himself as he turned away.
William motioned Paris and Kieran out of Dermot’s cell, and they emerged, shutting the cell door behind them and using the old key to turn the bolt.
Dermot was still on his knees, still cradling his broken hand against his chest, but there was no sympathy among the knights.
They’d done what they had to do, and it had worked. Now, they knew what they were facing.
The Angels of Lochlainn were on their doorstep.
The stakes, for Tristan and Andromeda, had just been raised.